Screwed Indefinitely
by Nerdfighter In Training
Summary: Sure, if life hands you lemons make lemonade. But what if life hands you absolutely nothing? Rated M for wrist cutting, rape, and other adult themes. Highschool Fic! Gaara/OC
1. Prologue

**Hello wonderful readers of the internet! **

**I must warn thee that this is my first fanfic to be put online, so I'm kinda nervous about it even being here. This is just the prologue so not all the chapters will be this short. I'll be switching from POV to POV as much as I damn well please so you'll get a lot of switching from Gaara to Syu – she's my OC character – because I feel that different moments would be better portrayed through different people. Syu does happen to be my own little creation so I hope you like her (I tried to make her as awesome as I could but you never know what someone else's opinion will be). I haven't actually experienced any of this – i.e. cutting, rape, emotional problems – (even high school since I'm only an 8th grader) so if I get some details wrong along the way, feel free to inform me and I'll try to make the story better =). **

**Disclaimer: I own nada….. What, did you think I did? (P.S. you would definitely know if I did because there would be some BIG ASS changes) **

**So without further ado- enjoy my extremely short prologue. **

Gaara

Have you ever felt like the only person you can relate to is yourself? Like God made a mistake in putting you on the earth and life would be better for everyone is you simply disappeared?

No? Well, me neither. But I did meet a girl who thought these things and worse; things normal people couldn't begin to understand.

She'd had horrible things happen to her, she lived in her own personal nightmare that never seemed to end. If anyone knew, they treated it as gossip, if they bothered to treat it as anything at all.

I met her by fluke, a real blip in an otherwise normal day. I'd helped her, even though she didn't want it. I hadn't realized afterwards how much help she really needed.

It was difficult, at first, to understand. This girl, she was crying out for someone, but when someone did come along, she'd put up a barrier. It was like she needed a listener yet had a fear of speaking.

I'm not sure how I came to play such a huge part in this story, but I'm glad I did.

You see, whoever 'up there' made us meet on that day knew what the hell they were doing. Because I wasn't just here to listen and know her story.

I was here to save her life.

**~Brina-bot~**


	2. Hallway Meeting

**So I hope you liked the prologue… guess there's not much else to say, huh. **

**Disclaimer: I own pretty much nothing. Seriously, I don't even own the laptop I'm writing this on. **

**Read on my children- become one with the text!**

Gaara

_Damn, Anko hates it when I'm late for class! She'll be ticked even if I tell her I was at the eye doctor's. _

Five minutes. I was late for second period by five minutes, and that was enough to get Anko angry for the rest of the class. I contemplated waiting somewhere until the bell rang for next period, but then I remembered my doctor had put the time on my note. Even so, I wasn't going to rush.

I sighed and ran a hand through my unruly crimson hair as I went up the stairs to my locker.

Syu

At the moment I was sitting against the wall by the hallway lockers having a small crisis and cursing myself for not being more careful.

_Shit!_ I thought as more blood seeped from my newly opened wounds. This stupid school kept finding new ways to twist the knife in my stomach.

On my ways to class some jock knocked me in the shoulder causing my novel to slip from my hands and while I was picking it up, a cheerleader wearing freakin' stilettos smacked me in the wrist. It would have been different if it had been my right wrist, but since my left had been freshly bandaged after cutting myself that morning, it was extremely sensitive. So my fragile skin had broken almost instantly and I was bleeding once again.

My mind was whirring, fretting, trying to conjure up some sort of plan and I must say I knew I was screwed. _I don't have any extra bandages; I just _can't _go to the nurse, and Jiriaya left for France last night so he can't do anything to help! Damn! Why does this shit keep happening to me? _I was having a hard time controlling my breathing so I must have sounded like I was hyperventilating (which I might have been, I don't know) as I unsuccessfully tried to stop the bleeding with the already torn and soaked bandages. It was no use and my lips turned up slightly when I realized the full extent of my situation. I played out the different scenarios of what might happen when class was dismissed and the hallways were once again filled with the judgmental students of the school. Each one was unusually cruel and for a moment I wondered if they would even bother noticing me. I doubted it.

_I should have been smarter. I should have been… more prepared. _My head leaned against the wall I started to get lightheaded and I let heavy lids close over cloudy eyes. Thinking had started to get harder, as had moving, and I absentmindedly thought about how much blood I'd lost. I was guessing more than a pint with how I was suddenly getting dizzy. There was at least 35 minutes before third period, so perhaps I would bleed to death before then.

That was the nicest thought I'd had all day.

Gaara

As I turned around the corner that led to my classroom, I was so wrapped up in mundane thoughts I almost didn't notice the pair of legs poking out behind the string of lockers. Whoever it was, was wearing black converse, black jeans and was probably a girl, judging by the shape of their legs. I stopped, wondering if I should see who it was (probably some freshman ditching) and tell them to get to class, or if I should avoid the situation and go a different way to French. I thought about it, and just as I was turning to head the long way around, I saw something that caught my interest. A small river of crimson had trickled out from behind the lockers and had started to pool around the person's knees.

_Damn! _I hurried forward.

The girl I came to find was not exactly what I was expecting- but was I really expecting anything? She was leaning against the white walls, wearing a black hoodie and sporting the worst looking cuts. Five symmetrical lines were cleanly sliced through her left wrist and each was graciously giving up the girl's blood. Deep red and discarded bandages decorated her waist and thighs. I was stunned into stillness for a moment.

Taking just a second to look at her face, I took in the stiff looking black hair and surprisingly beautiful face, recognizing her from my art class. I assumed she was unconscious and I was about to do something (I'm still not sure _what_) when she snapped her stunning green eyes open and looked straight at me.

Syu

My eyes may have been closed, but I was still very much awake, so when I felt a presence looming over me, I opened my eyes real quick to see who was obviously not in class. Thinking I was about to see some obnoxious teenager about to ridicule me, my gaze was icy and leaning towards being a glare. But the eyes that met mine were an incredible aqua, a caring yet secretive sea-foam green. I relaxed, but only for a moment. When I saw the person those eyes belonged to, I wished I had made the cuts deeper that morning.

The one and only Sabaku no Gaara was the person who'd found me. _Oh Lord, please strike me with lightning or something._ Of course one of the most prestigious guys at school would be the one to see me like this. And by the look on his face, he probably recognized me from art class- even if he'd just switched from physical education a week ago.

I'm not sure how long we spent just looking at each other, thinking of what to do next. To me, it felt like I should have been dead by the time he got on his knees to my level.

"Here, let me see," he finally spoke as he tried to gently take my bloody arm. I say tried because it still hurt like hell and I cringed at the sharp pain. He noticed.

"Why are you… what are you-"

"Don't," he – thankfully – cut off my jumbled up rambling. "You waste energy by talking. I'll help you get down to the nurs–"

_"No!" _ I cut _him _off. Both our eyes widened at the urgency in my voice. But I couldn't go to the nurse! She'd take one look at my cuts, label me as 'troubled', call Jiraiya, and send me to some whack job therapist – as if I hadn't tried that already!

"No," I repeated, making it final. He slowly looked at me, then down at my arm, then back at my face.

My eyes narrowed when he said, "I see."

I could feel the anger starting to fester in my stomach, so I gritted my teeth together to prevent myself from yelling at him or saying something stupid. _ He has no right… he has no right to judge me like that. _

"So you won't let me take you to the nurse?" he questioned patiently and I shook my head stiffly. "Then here." I was shocked to see him turn to his bag and procure a roll of clean bandages from it. With the skill of a professional medic, he unrolled it, took my limp arm and started to wrap it gently.

"By the way," he spoke in his usual soft tone, "I'm Gaara."

"I know who you are." I said on instinct with a very hostile voice. _Whoa, Syu, remember that we have to _think _before speaking! Can I get any ruder?_

Gaara

She seemed to be frustrated and, in her situation, I believe that feeling was justified. She was obviously having a terrible day and that look I'd accidentally given her was not helping in the least. _Well, I feel like a bit of a jackass. _I felt pretty bad and a wave of guilt and concern for her washed over me and I looked at her head on, trying to see something in those emerald kaleidoscopes. They were too foggy, too complicated for me to understand.

Since I was done with her arm, I started to stand and asked, "What class are you supposed to be in?" as I offered my hand.

She ignored it, choosing to stand on her own, "Why do you care?"

"So I can tell the teacher you've gone home with the flu." She stared at me for a moment, stunned at my words.

"History," she whispered.

"And you're…?" I pried, a small smile threatening to come up. For some reason, she laughed, short and bitter.

"It's Syu, and thanks for what you did," she paused, turning to walk away, "But I didn't ask for your help."

She slowly made her way across the hall, leaning on the lockers at times. I felt the urge to help her, let her lean on me instead, but I knew she would push me away. So I settled for checking to make sure she got down the stairs safely. Once she was gone, I couldn't help but keep thinking of her.

_Syu… _

Syu

_Holy hell! _I thought as I started running/ stumbling across the downstairs hallway that led to the freedom of my small Subaru Outback. With a cloudy head I made my way to the school doors leading to the student parking lot and opened it. Once outside, I slumped against its horrid green paint job. I panted, trying to regain my breath, not sure if it was because of the blood I'd lost (sprinting down the stairs may not have helped) or if it was because of how startled I was. Seriously, I hadn't been expecting help, especially not _his _help. I was feeling so many things – shock, confusion, hurt – but mostly, I felt relief. I had new bandages, an excuse from school, I was out of a very sticky – no pun intended – situation and… someone had just shown me the greatest kindness. Yep. I felt relief.

Searching the large parking lot, I spotted my car, in all its blue glory, and I slowly put one foot in front of the other, leaning on random cars until I reached it. With shaking hands, I unlocked the door and slipped in.

_I should go… but I'm so darn dizzy! Wait a minute! _Happily I realized through all the clouds in my brain that I had a source of sugar right next to me. In the glove compartment lay a bag of chocolate chip cookies I'd baked yesterday. I slipped my hand down and grasped the plastic baggie that held my energy. After eating just one of the sweet pastries, my head stopped spinning and I felt better about being behind the wheel. Before getting my keys and starting the engine, I sat and thought for a second.

Why the hell would a guy like Sabaku no Gaara give a flying flip about me? The few times I'd seen him his eyes held no emotion, and when one of his lovesick fangirls would ask him out or declare their undying devotion for him – insert much needed eye roll – he would politely shut them down, making it clear he had no interest in dating. But when he'd wrapped up my wrist and stopped to help me, it felt as though he'd genuinely cared. His touch had been gentle and his voice had teetered on the edge of concern.

Now I can't stop imagining his light green eyes and replaying that scene over and over again in my head. I pondered – just for a moment – what those crimson locks would feel like if I ran my fingers through them and if those pale lips were as soft as they looked. _Maybe—_

_ NO! Oh, _Hell _no! I'm not going to let myself fall for a guy that probably only helped me as a joke! I'm going to go home, go to bed, and forget this incident ever happened! _

And that is exactly what I proceeded to do. Well at least what I _tried _to do.

**So is anybody at all interested in this story? I have the next few chapters already done but I'd like to know if someone is actually going to read them. **

**Random characters shall be popping up in the later chappies so don't be discouraged if you absolutely love one of the side characters and you want them in here because they might just show up. **

**Reviews equal love,**

**reviews equal more chapters.**

**Reviews equal happy,**

**and Brina not hanging from the rafters. **

**(Ya see what I did there =)**

**~Brina-bot~**


	3. Surprised? I am

**Disclaimer- not mine yada yada yada**

Syu

By the time Monday morning rolled around, I had actually managed to stay away from the blade. I was in an unnaturally nice mood, which may have had something to do with Friday, but it's not like I was gonna admit to that or anything. I decided to reflect my mood in my clothes, so instead of my usual black attire, I wore a forest green, v-necked sweater– long-sleeved, for obvious reasons – and some flare jeans. I even got through most of the day without being looked at like an emo, goth or a cutter.

Although high school is a bitch, I was still feeling pretty good by seventh period art, which happened to be my best and favorite subject. I strolled into the airy room, passed the few students littered around, and plopped down in front of my regular easel in the far corner of the room by the windows. I took my sketchbook out of my black shoulder bag, dropped down on the floor, and turned to an unfinished picture of a young girl with a shadowed face. As I began to detail the billowing skirt, a voice from behind me suddenly spoke, "Well, _that_ is quite good."

I jumped about a foot in my chair and whipped around to see the smiling face of my teacher, Deidara-sama. "Oh gosh," I breathed out my relief that it wasn't someone else. "I – uh – thanks."

"The shading is particularly nice," he ran a finger over her shadow, "It's almost perfect." He stood behind me looking over my right shoulder. "What were you thinking about when you drew her?" His eyes slowly moved to mine and I quickly avoided the gaze, choosing to glue my eyes to the girls.

"I'm not really sure I was thinking anything at all, so nothing, I guess." I actually did remember. I was angry the other day, with myself. I was hating how I couldn't see myself in the mirror anymore, and thinking about how I go insane by being forced to be in the company of my own mind. I was disturbed when I drew it. Is that what he saw? Because I sure did.

I released the unneeded tension in my shoulders and waited for him to lose interest in both the drawing and me.

He shrugged. "I only ask because she reminds me a bit of you." I turned my body, no longer afraid to look him in the eye. I was actually stunned, not because he'd admitted that, but because he'd actually seen it. I couldn't form any words. He smiled knowingly," I can't wait to see what you come up with in our next project!"

He walked briskly away, aware that he was leaving me with a few unformed questions. I watched him saunter to the head of the class, now filled with chatting students spilling their adolescent gossip.

"Alright, my lovely children," he commanded the class's attention as he did every day, "We'll be doing some painting today, and I know how everyone _loves_ that," he smirked as most of the class did a simultaneous groan. Reason for that was because most of these so-called artists couldn't keep a steady enough hand to paint a straight line. When they tried to blend or mix colors on a canvas, it turned out looking like a child had tried to paint Van Gough's "Starry Night" with their feet. Being of artistic mind _and _steady hand, it was more or less amusing to watch my peers try to paint a worthy picture.

"Since most of you pansies like bright colors and happy scenes, I'm making today's project about your darker feelings. I want you to find an emotion – such as anger or sadness – and conjure up a painting displaying that particular emotion. Use lots of dark colors, alright?"

The class mumbled a sort of "yes".

Personally, I found this assignment to be enjoyable. Deidara-sama was great at pin pointing a class's weakness and making them confront it, although in my mind, I expected this to be a pleasurable work day.

"Make me _feel _something; pour your darkest thoughts into this. Try not to disappoint me. So chop, chop children. You know where the brushes and such are." He waved us away.

Everyone slowly started to mill to the back of the room, and since I was the closest; I got to the cabinets first. I opened the second one that I knew held the painting supplies and I carefully picked a slim brush, then a fuller one. I grabbed a few random colors and moved out of the way, toward the counter by various other easels not in use. As I started to squirt the thick past onto one of the Styrofoam plates, I heard something.

It was the annoying voice of Meena Palmetto, a platinum blonde airhead who happened to be cheerleading captain, had a thing for embarrassing other people, and was the epitome of the royal bitch. She had come to calling me "Cutter-freak" and had made a habit out of making parts of my life hell. Although her sarcastic remarks are idiotic and not well thought out, she's freakishly liked by many people and is "Miss Popularity" at Konoha High. This proves my point that I go to a very moronic school.

"Cutter-freak should just _looove _this. I bet this is, like, her dream assignment. She gets to be all emo in class. Too bad nobody cares enough about her to even look at her artwork," she whispered to Follower 1 before they both giggled. I clenched my teeth and finished my current task. Since she happened to be Queen Bee here, anyone else would keep their head down and pretend as though nothing had happened, but she really pissed me off, and I felt as though I had to do something to release the oncoming anger – even if I wouldn't get any credit for it. I turned quickly on my heels and walked past her. But as I did so, I positioned my elbow so that it was under her plate of fresh paint for just a split second. When it was, I jerked it up so it flew from her loose grip and smacked her right in the chest, smearing all over her designer top.

She screamed, I smirked, and it was beautiful.

"What the HELL!" she shrieked. I saw Deidara-sama's eyes roll as he leisurely made his way over to her. I – having slipped away in the bundle of students before she'd even realized what was happening – smiled as I turned my back to everyone and looked happily at my blank canvas.

After Meena was excused to go clean up and everybody had calmed down, I finally started to concentrate on my painting (she even got detention for cursing in class! Score!). I thought about my many emotions and immense dark side and I knew I had all the right material needed for this assignment, but I had no idea how to put it on a canvas.

I dipped my paintbrush into the dark blue goop.

I started to think about my life; my screwed up, confusing, abnormal life. It had turned out pretty sucky, but at the start it had been seriously perfect. I remembered my parents, their undying love for each other and then the natural love they'd had for me. They were amazing, caring, patient, honest, and so full of life. Both had been so beautiful in their own special ways and their parenting skills were way above average. My mom had been the most gorgeous woman. Her smile was easy, her grace was authentic, and her skills were numerous. My dad had been the greatest role model. His personality was admired by everyone, his talents included almost everything, and his good looks had girls swooning in high school – or so my mom had told me.

Because I had spent so much time with them and since I was so attached to them, I had never gotten close to anyone my own age. I can't recall ever having a best friend or even a close buddy. They were my everything.

My fondest memories were of the most mundane things. My mom teaching me how to cook, my dad telling me funny stories, the time they babied me for days because I was too sick to get out of bed, and even the day I sprained my ankle from falling off the roof – that is one odd story. I'd been sheltered, care-free, and unaware that everything could change so quickly. Most of those memories were the times we'd spent in our beautiful house, complete with garden in the back, tall billowing trees out front, and rose bushes lining the walkway.

That house was my safe haven, the place I grew up, my childhood… you know; my _home. _

But I couldn't see that place as anything but a terrible reminder after that day. I knew even as a child that I never wanted to go back there. I used to have nightmares about it. Sometimes I still do. The hardwood floors may have been flawless, the feel may have been homey, and the furniture may have been picked out in expert taste, but every time I tried to think of it as a place I loved, I remember the echoing screams and I get sucked into the staining red.

I was abruptly pulled from my thoughts when Deidara-sama announced to the class, "Just a few more minutes to finish, and then I need you to pack up so I can tell you about your next project before the bell rings."

I actually started to freak out for a second – I mean; I hadn't even begun to paint! _Crap! How long was I zoning out?_

I shouldn't have worried. When I looked to the canvas, I was surprised to see an eerily precise painting of a beautiful house with tall billowing trees in the front, and rose bushes lining the walkway. I gasped at the very place I had just been imagining. But my blood ran cold when I looked closer. In the window, stood a black figure, their hand pressed against the glass smearing it with red.

I stood speechless at the horror I'd created.

Gaara

"Okay, settle down, settle down. I have to give you the details of your new project!"

I turned my aqua eyes lazily towards my teacher, who had just said the last part of that sentence in a 'sing-song' voice. _If I didn't know better, I'd think he was the most idiotic teacher ever. _

When the class had quieted down, he continued, "This particular project is one that can be done on your own or with a partner, I don't really care, but I advise you to pick well if you so choose. You'll have to spend a lot of spring break and the next month with them, so pick someone you like because if you don't, I guarantee one of you will be dead by next semester.

There aren't many strict rules to this assignment. You can choose to use pastels, paint, charcoal, or crayons – it doesn't really matter. It can be one picture, a string of them, a banner or paper mache – that doesn't really matter either.

The only thing that is required is that it must symbolize something. Love, hate, sadness – take your pick. Be creative, surprise me. Okay? Okay. You've got a minutes or two to find a partner if you want.

And my lovelies, remember—"

"Art is an explosion!" we answered by habit, before starting to rise. Immediately, I had people closing in on me. "Hey Gaara, you wanna work together on this stupid project?"

It was Meena, complete with colorful stains. I smirked as I recalled how she'd received them. Nobody else had seen, but I'm glad I looked over right as Syu's arm sent her plate careening into her. I'd also caught the satisfied smile on her face as Meena screamed. I can't say I didn't enjoy it immensely. _Now I know never to piss her off. _

I glanced over Meena's head to take a glance at Syu who sat still, waiting for the bell. I looked back at the annoying blonde girl pestering me and simply said, "I'll pass."

I pushed past her and made my way through the sea of students until I stood in front of Syu. She stared up at me from her chair, obviously surprised.

Syu

I was surprised. He was standing right in front of me. _What is he doing?_

"You want to be my partner?" he asked with a hint of coyness.

"What?" was my immediate answer.

"Do you want to be my partner?"

_The hell? _"Uh – sure?"

"Great," he gave me a smug smile," Why don't I come over to your place sometime tomorrow?"

"Wait – what!"

The bell rang.

"I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" He rushed out before I could even comprehend any of what had just happened. I blinked once, then again. Students started to file out and all I could do was sit there. When most of them had left, Deidara-sama came up to me, an eyebrow raised.

"Syu, are you alright?"

"I'm so… _confused_…" And I continued to be brain dead for the rest of the day.

Gaara

_That went well. _I thought smugly as I continued down the hallway. Obviously, she hadn't been expecting that. I knew she wouldn't have agreed – well, kinda ya know – if I hadn't been quick and made sure she was unprepared for it. My timing had been extremely good. The look on her delicate face had made the whole thing absolutely worth it. I know she doesn't understand and I know she probably doesn't want anything to do with me, but that certainly not going to stop me.

Something about her was different, something about her made me want to know more. I may have just pushed my way into her life – I mean, seriously. I just invited myself to her home – but I had a feeling this was a good thing for both of us. Maybe she'll learn to like me, maybe she won't. Who knows?

The only thing I was positive about was that she'd sparked my interest, and for now, she was stuck with me. If she didn't like it, too bad. She'd just have to live with it for a while.

**~Brina-bot~**


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